(I found this poem in a back corner of my hard drive)
Pumice stone and ice cold stream water are my bread and wine this Sabbath
These ancient emblems of volcanic body spilled in atonement, at-one-ment for the land
The catastrophe blessing its priesthood
I hug cold stone-lined trails reverently approaching a tabernacle of ancient lava kneeling in still silent prayer
The windswept expanse whistles like a sad organ
My temple, my refuge, carpeted in green moss
Chipmunk, grasshopper, and dipper my congregation
My covenant with the earth renewed
-October 2007, Crater Lake National Park
2 comments:
Awesomeness. I love the line "The catastrophe blessing its priesthood"... Powerful word combo +eleventy million
Here's one of mine in from a similar meditation:
Emeralds, gold, the blood of honor, and the sea of glass, glowed translucent
Life, as a blanket of patrons seated under the bells, was a cascading breath
From the lips of the clouds
And I saw the powers stride in unity
We wrote the words that glided in and out of covenant mouths
We opened a library of dust, struggle, faith, fluid, and light
A good poem indeed.
Have a Happy Holiday!
Post a Comment